


Fascination

by EmmG



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmG/pseuds/EmmG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He likes to think that she sighs when he touches her, but in truth she hisses. She is this unattainable thing he's trapped and now keeps within his grasp all day, all year, forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fascination

**I**

She is broken, proud, and bleeding.

His men pull her out of the rubble, away from cold bodies spilling hot blood and a world she thinks is hers but which has long since forfeited its freedom.

He watches and perhaps she sees him because her screams die, but then her cries resume.

It's all over.

He breathes.

**II**

She is a madwoman, whispering complex theorems, calculations, and possibilities under her breath. Once, she cuts her finger and uses blood to paint the wall in numbers. Her cell lacks light, but he can see how creased her forehead is.

A single bead of sweat rolls off her nose.

**III**

"You are beautiful," he says. "So beautiful. Simply beautiful."

The words can't stop, and after a while he can't hear himself. But his tongue moves and not only to stroke her throat.

How beautiful, he thinks.

And it is all he can muster. That unique thought, that unparalleled truth.

His fingers are wild and they are everywhere - her hair, her face, her jaw, her neck... She smells of earth and anger. And when her nails dig into his skin, when she curses his name, when the last of her struggles die so she may take a breath before resuming, he loses himself in her even more.

**IV**

She is his. She was his brother's.

She never thought of herself as eloquent, but he drinks in her words. His hands are around her throat, but he listens still. She is what could have been - a pioneer of science and a lover to a fallen promise. But also so much more. A little liar, her skills just now gaining strength as tiny rosebuds, but not quite.

"You grow tired, Jane Foster," he tells her. "You will not last."

Blood drips from her nose. His fingers catch a single droplet.

**V**

He likes to think that she sighs when he touches her, but in truth she hisses. She is this unattainable thing he's trapped and now keeps within his grasp all day, all year, forever.

His hands are busy.

For a king, it won't do.

**VI**

She watches the stars with an odd kind of fascination. She knows their secrets by now for he has shared everything with her.

"The morning won't come," Jane Foster murmurs.

She doesn't question him. Never has. Answers always belonged to her alone.

"No, it will not."

He holds her for just a minute, memorizing her waist and how soft her hair is, how her tiny frame molds itself into his. It is a day for festivities, or rather a night. For he is to break free, to truly become a ruler. No restraints. None.

And still she is soft, and defiant, and most definitely his.

And there won't be another to equal her. A trapped animal, a prize, an otherworldly fascination.

She dies with a necklace of bruises, her throat still pale and lips sealed.

Her beautiful eyes are empty.

He feels nothing. Perhaps she was never here at all.

He breathes.


End file.
